Into Forever
by skye5052
Summary: Years after the events of the final book, Susan Pevensie finds herself coming fullcircle at the end of her life


**Disclaimer: As I am not C.S. Lewis returned from the grave and inexplicably writing fanfiction, I do not own Narnia or any of the characters it encompasses.** **This is just my version of what happens after the events of the final book, wrapping up Susan's unresolved storyline.**

She had lived a long life.

Eighty-six years was nothing to scoff at.

When she looked back at her life, she had no regrets.

There were things she would change, of course, given the power to do so, but she was content with the way that her life had turned out.

In her youth, she'd only been concerned with dances and society, such childish foolery.

The accident had changed her life.

It changed _her_.

For the longest time after, she'd felt as if she would never get over it.

As if the terrible ache in her heart, and the haunting loneliness, would become her entire reality, and never let her go.

There had been grief and despair, guilt and anger.

Some mornings she had not been able to pull herself out of bed, and there had been terrible thoughts of how nice it would be not to wake up the following morning, of how peaceful it would be to just let herself drift away into eternal sleep.

Her parents, her brothers and her sister, all gone in one fell swoop.

One moment her biggest concern had been what dress to wear to a social event, and the next she'd been identifying bodies recovered from the train wreckage.

There had been funeral arrangements to make, wills and estates to be settled, and she hadn't had a clue where to start or how to navigate through the tedious tasks before her. Family friends had offered their assistance, but she'd insisted on handling everything herself.

Perhaps it was survivor's guilt.

Once, a long time ago, she and her siblings had done everything together.

They'd been close then, back when she'd had time to listen to Lucy's girlhood troubles or offer Edmund advice on his studies.

Back when she hadn't brushed Peter off for more important engagements.

She'd loved them, of course, they were her family and they'd meant the world to her.

But she'd made excuses, let herself become too busy for them.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly when she'd begun to grow apart from the others, her memories of that time were murky and dim at best, but she had the faint impression of some infinite sadness that she'd carried around inside of her for the rest of her life. Most of the time she'd forgotten it was even there, but every once and while she would feel it again, that strange emptiness as if something was missing, if only she could remember what it was.

It had taken her some time to get back on her feet again, to move on with her life, but eventually she'd managed it.

Her family was never far from her thoughts, a bittersweet longing she'd learned to accept.

In time, she married.

There were children, the eldest of which she named Peter.

She lived a long, happy life with them, content as a wife and mother, and she tried to raise her children to be just and brave and good, all the things that she remembered of her family.

Hers was a fulfilled life, full of laughter and smiles and joy.

She'd had a loving husband, with whom she'd had forty wonderful years before his passing. His death had not been an easy thing to bear, but she'd endured loss before and this time her children were there to help her through it.

The grandchildren, bright-eyed and beautiful, had given her reason to smile again.

And yet, through it all, that strange sadness had never left her.

It was different from the lingering sorrow over the loss of her family, that pain had faded into a dull, wistful sort of ache, but this sadness was a constant presence in her heart, ever just out of sight.

She could not explain it, much less understand it.

The only thing she could liken it to was living in a world without sun, after having spent a lifetime luxuriating in its glistening rays.

As old age crept up on her, she'd found herself often staring out the window, not at any particular thing, at nothing and everything all at once. Like she was half-expecting to see something, or hear something, though she never did.

The past had come alive again in her final days.

Her children had let her mind wander, not having the heart to bring her back to reality, and her grandchildren had endured being called by Edmund or Lucy or Peter.

Old memories surfaced again, jumbled together in her half-lucid mind.

Falling through a sea of coats... a horn sounding in the distance... the glint of a magnificent sword...

When she closes her eyes for the final time, she finds herself being carried along through an autumn forest, leaves swirling in the warm breeze and the sounds of galloping horses mingling with familiar laughter that rang through the air like a gentle melody.

The world around her slowly disappears, and suddenly she's floating in a soft sunrise.

He comes to her then, a presence strong and steady and gentle, with brilliant luminescence.

A thousand shades of gold glisten in his mane, his fur feels like fine velvet under her fingertips as she breathlessly reaches a hand to touch him.

She thinks she's dreamed about this moment before, a lifetime before, but there is no memory of such dreams.

They were pushed into the darkest corners of her mind, willingly abandoned and forgotten along with the life that they entailed, the life that had been lost to her so very long ago.

"Aslan," she breathes his name in awe.

She wonders how she could have ever forgotten, how she could have ever denied him.

But he simply smiles at her then, his amber eyes knowing and full of forgiveness, of love unconditional, and for the first time in many years she feels complete.

The sadness is gone now, the emptiness but a memory.

In his presence, there is nothing but joy and contentment, and peace.

He does not speak, but turns into the light and pauses, waiting, and she laces her fingers into his mane as she once did so long ago, but she does not need a fistul as she did in her youth, she tangles her hand into his mane loosely, trusting as she lets him lead her into the horizon.

As the sun settles around her, she catches a glimpse of familiar faces in the distance.

There are many waiting, many there to welcome the Lost Queen home at long last, but she sees only the four at the front of the crowd.

Dark hair and a wry, crooked smile.

Bright eyes and bubbly laughter from a figure waving eagerly.

And a tall, golden man with a glistening sword at his side.

"Peter," she whispers. "Edmund, Lucy."

There are tears in her eyes, and the image before her blurs as she blinks rapidly, and then suddenly her sister is racing towards her, skirt billowing around her slender ankles, and she finds herself caught in a warm embrace.

"We thought you'd never get here," Lucy laughs merrily.

Her fingers fly over her sister's hair, and her face, unable to still as they rediscovered every detail.

"We've been waiting for ages," Edmund added, with just a hint of playful reproach, and he swooped in beside Lucy to wrap his arms around her as their little sister released her. "What took you so long?"

She laughs even as tears spill past her lashes, and stays in the warm confines of his strong embrace, resting her cheek on the softness of his cloak and breathing in the familiar scent of him. It's been ages, lifetimes, but here was the boy she remembered, within a king.

"You know Susan," Peter's voice, as rich and deep as she remembers, filled her ears, filled her heart.

She lifts her head as he approaches, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the beard masking a slow smile that begins to reach his eyes as Edmund steps back to give him access.

"She takes her own sweet time about everything," Peter concluded, and he's now smiling fully.

"Peter..." she breathes his name.

They step forward at the same time, and in an instant, she is in his arms, and she can't help laughing as he spins her around as if they are children again. He settles her down lightly, gently, as if she weighs nothing at all, and Peter's hand touches her cheek almost reverently as he smiles down at her with those eyes that she's trusted her entire life.

"Welcome home, Susan," he tells her softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We've missed you."

She beams up at him as Lucy and Edmund converge on them, both laughing and smiling and gesturing animatedly as they tried to fill her in on everything all at once.

The years fall away, and it's as if they were never parted.

Laughing now herself, Susan lets the three of them lead her further into the sunlight and on to the next adventure.


End file.
